“IS THAT ALL that matters to you?” she asked with shock, when really, she had no reason to be surprised. She made no effort to hide her unease with the idea. “That you win?”
“I never go into a fight without the intention of doing just that and the certainty I can do so.”
“Have you ever lost?” she wondered out loud.
“I lost my Russian family before I knew what it meant to have anyone in my life besides my mother.”
“That wasn’t your fight. It was your mom’s.” And while the loss was very real, and no doubt impacting, even to an emotionless tycoon who relegated marriage to a business deal, it wasn’t an example of Max being defeated.
“She won her independence and the life she wanted for me at great cost. Mama still misses her family.”
“So, you were raised not to count the cost, but to weigh the victory.” It was the attitude of strength, one that made no allowance for fear.
She was impressed despite herself.
“That is a very good way to put it.” He smiled. “Mama would be proud.”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you didn’t answer my question.” One thing a professional at avoidance like Romi could do was recognize the tactic.
“I have never come out the loser in a business deal.”
No doubt, but that wasn’t exactly what she was asking. Since Romi didn’t actually see marriage as a business deal.
“What about personally?” Though she couldn’t imagine him really fighting for anything on a personal basis.
Before today anyway.
He certainly hadn’t fought to keep seeing her a year ago. She’d told him no and he’d accepted her word without trying to change her mind. She’d vacillated between relief and disappointment.
The relief had been unwarranted emotion, she now realized. Maxwell Black didn’t give up. He just regrouped.
“Not since I became an adult.”
“Your mom’s family does not count, we’ve already said.”
“Every loss counts,” he responded implacably.
And he said he had no heart. For the first time since meeting him, Romi wondered if the heart he claimed not to be guided by was just buried really deep.
“Then you shouldn’t have any trouble remembering them.”
Rather than answer, he stood and indicated the living room with a tip of his head. “Would you like to move this discussion somewhere more comfortable?”
They ended up side by side on the big brown leather sectional even though there were several seating options that would not have required such close proximity.
He settled back into the corner, his arm along the back, his gaze holding hers. “Despite having a relationship with my mother that lasted more than two years, my father walked away from me without a backward glance.”
“You don’t know that.” She kicked her ballet flats off and tucked one foot under her, turning to face him more squarely.
“I do.”
“Have you spoken to him?” She tried to picture that conversation and couldn’t quite do it.
“No.”
“Then you don’t know what regrets are still open wounds in his heart.” She could not fathom any parent not regretting being a nonentity in Max’s life.
Ruthless the man might be, but he was a son to be proud of.
“He offered money and bringing his influence to bear to facilitate our immigration in exchange for silence on my mother’s part. Both about her relationship with him and about my existence. She was never even allowed to name him.”
“That could be because his choices were limited, not because he didn’t want you.” She didn’t know why it was so important to her to convince Max of that.
“Your heart is too tender.” He reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. “You need someone to watch over you and make sure the world does not rip it to shreds.”
“Like you’re trying to do?”
He let his hand fall away. “Not even close. I’m offering you a place in my life, not coming after you with a scalpel directed at your heart.”
“Nice image.” No way was she going to admit she missed the warmth of his hand.
“I am Russian. Imagery is in my blood.”
“Russians are also known for their passionate natures.”
“You have reason to believe that of me.” His meaning was clear.
He was equating passion to sex while she’d been talking about emotion. Nothing new about that, but maybe it wasn’t the epic misunderstanding she’d always considered it.
He was willing to acknowledge his sexual nature and need. Could that be a way to his heart?
And did she have the courage to even try?